


Fanservice

by henghost



Category: BLACKPINK (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Canon Compliant, F/F, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-03-17 00:54:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18954637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/henghost/pseuds/henghost
Summary: Jisoo treats a disillusioned Jennie to a taste of rebellion.





	1. Rebellion

“It’s a fact that, in this day and age, being an idol is about  _ much  _ more than just singing and dancing,” said Mr. Son, BLACKPINK’s PR director. “We live in the age of Instagram, Twitter, etcetera. This is how most prospective fans are going to find you guys, you know. And as such, we really need to work on you all’s charisma. Online charisma, I mean.”

“What are you trying to say? That we’re ugly, or something?” asked Jennie, clearly mocking. 

“No no no. I mean it’s difficult, sometimes, to get across your natural charms over the internet. But it’s absolutely vital for a newly-debuted girl-group like yourselves, which is why I’ve arranged this little training session.”

“You’re going to train us to be charming. You.” Chaeyoung said.

“Ha ha, I know. But I’m an expert on this kind of thing, trust me. If I had your… assets, I’d be a global superstar as well.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Chaeyoung said, turning her head away. 

“One thing that’s becoming more and more important,” continued Mr. Son, “is  ‘fanservice,’ meaning skinship, playful touching, and that kind of thing. It’s a whole market we’re yet to tap. Think about how many people will become BLINKS if they get invested in the kind of will-they-won’t-they romance subplot we create. And how much free advertising we’ll get in the form of fanfiction and video compilations.” Mr. Son spoke quickly and excitedly, and a thin sheen of sweat had formed on his upper brow.

“Let me get this straight,” said Jennie. “You want us to act gay so that we can get free advertising? How is that going to work?”

“Well not  _ gay _ \--that would create its own problems-- just playful little kisses and hugs, to indicate how  _ close  _ you all are. Let me show you what I mean.” He pulled up a video on his phone titled “TWICE’s Gayest Moments.” And, sure enough, it was ten minutes of clips of TWICE’s members-- I didn’t know their names-- kissing, touching, saying suggestive things. 

“See,” he said when it was finished. “Aren’t you totally in love with them now? Don’t you want to buy all their music and merchandise?”

“They’re pretty,” I said. 

“This’ll be fun,” Lisa said. “Let’s try it, Rosie.” But she didn’t give Chaeyoung a chance to respond before jumping on her and smothering her with kisses. 

“Exactly, Lisa! You’re oozing charm right now.”

“And people are going to buy this?” Jennie asked. 

“My masters degree in market research tells me yes,” Mr. Son responded. Jennie sighed. “Why don’t you give it a try, Jisoo? Give Jennie a little kiss. You two are, like, best friends right?”

A pit formed in my stomach. I felt so self-conscious all of a sudden-- I hadn’t brushed my teeth after I’d eaten, I hadn’t worn the right makeup. “Uh, right now?” My face was hot. 

“Why not?”

“It’s fine, Jisoo,” Jennie said. “I don’t mind.”

I made myself bring my lips to Jennie’s cheek, which smelled like fruity perfume. She giggled a little as we touched. 

“Fantastic!” Mr. Son shouted, bringing his hands in front of his crotch. “I’ll be back.” He ran out of the room. 

 

***

“That guy’s such a pervert,” Jennie told me as we walked out of the company building. My mind was still a little hazy from the earlier kiss. It wasn’t the first time we’d ever done something like that, but there was something different about it. It was so serious, and other people could see it. “I caught him jacking off once. Pictures of 2NE1. What a psycho.”

“Are you mad about this fanservice thing?” I asked, trying to ground myself.

“I’m a little mad, yeah. It’s like it’s not enough for them that we’re glorified singing, dancing puppets, they need to profit off our sexuality too.”

“So you didn’t like it when I kissed you?”

“Ha ha. No, that part was fine. You’ve got soft lips.” I felt a twinge in my stomach. 

“Thank you.”

“But it’s not like they want us to actually be close. They just want us to  _ look  _ close so that we can make more money for them, for people like Mr. Son. Money that  _ we _ hardly get to see. It-- I don’t know-- it makes me feel like less of a human and more of a product. Does that make sense?”

“Totally,” I said. “I know exactly what you need right now.”

“What?”

“A little taste of rebellion.”

***

“Jesus, Jisoo. You’ve got a fucking stockpile here. There’s no prohibition going on, you know.”

“I know. I get it in bulk.”

“But  _ how  _ do you get it, is the question.”

“I met this guy when we were trainees who works at a liquor store, and I promised him free merchandise in exchange for free alcohol. He said he did the inventory, so it wasn’t a problem to sneak a couple little bottles out every so often.”

“Is that all you promised him? Merchandise?” she asked, smiling. 

“Gross. Yes it is.”

“But, like, why do you need so much? You’re not an alcoholic or anything, are you?”

“Uh… I don’t think so. No, definitely not. It’s just that having ‘contraband’ is kind of exciting, isn’t it?”

“I guess so.”

“Plus, I think it’s also fair to say I wouldn’t have made it into BLACKPINK if I didn’t have a steady stream of liquor. Those trainee years were stressful. For a lot of reasons.”

“That doesn’t sound healthy,” Jennie said, frowning. 

“Hey, everyone has their vices. I don’t yell at you when you spend all your money on three thousand dollar Chanel underwear, or whatever else. Which, isn’t that a little hypocritical? You buy clothes because the model you saw wearing them was pretty. How’s that any different than what we do?”

“There’s no ethical consumption under capitalism, Jisoo.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” she said, and we burst out laughing. I took two mini-bottles of vodka out of my secret compartment, poured them into glasses, and took a sip from mine. Before I gave Jennie her’s, I asked, “You’re not going to, like, snitch on me, are you?”

“No. I also think it’s dumb we’re not allowed to drink. We’re both twenty-one, aren’t we? Plus, how can I sing about a ‘bottle full of henny’ if I’m always stone-sober?”

“Good point,” I said, handing her the glass. 

She gagged when she took a sip, and I giggled. I leaned back against the headboard of my bed and downed all of it in one gulp.

“Goddamn, Jisoo. You’re sure you’re not an alcoholic?”

“Like eighty percent sure,” I said as I felt the warmth and relaxation wash over me.

“I always thought you had an easy time as a trainee. You were all but guaranteed a debut when you showed up-- that’s how pretty you are.”

It felt good to have Jennie compliment me, even if it wasn’t in the way I really wanted. When she said I was pretty, it was affirming and flattering, but it wasn’t flirting. “Well, you know what they say. Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

“It’s just, what could you be worried about?”

“Stress isn’t always rational like that, Jennie.”

“I know. I’m kind of trying to get you to, like, open up a bit.” She took another sip and grimaced. 

“Oh.”

“Was it boy trouble? Did you have an unrequited longing that could only be stifled by chemical means?” she teased.

“Okay, fine, I’ll tell you,” I said, my heart hammering in my chest despite the alcohol. “But you have to promise you’ll drink a lot afterwards so you don’t remember it.”

“What? What’s the point of that?”

“Catharsis?”

“Alright, fine. I promise.” Then she took another, bigger sip, as if to prove she meant it.

“Well, okay, what you said about unrequited longing was basically pretty accurate. Except it wasn’t boy trouble. It was girl trouble.” I grabbed another mini-bottle and took a long drink from it.

Jennie laughed. “What? You’re joking.” Part of me was angry-- I was coming out to my best friend, and she was laughing at me-- but I continued anyway.

“I’m serious. And that’s why I drank so much, to repress those thoughts. I could never be an idol if anyone found out.”

“Damn. Wow. That makes a lot of sense, actually.” She sounded very tipsy.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, you were always touching me when we were younger. And whenever I’d say, ‘Oh, that guy’s hot,” you’d kind of just laugh at me. Who was it? Who was your secret crush? Definitely Chaeyoung, right?”

“It was… It was you, Jennie. It  _ is  _ you.”

She was silent for a moment, her face blank. Then she moved to sit next to me, and she put her head on my shoulder. “Oh, Jisoo…” she said. 

“Okay, so now you have to drink. Here, start with this,” I said, handing my half-empty bottle to her. 

“That’s not fair, Jisoo. We need to talk about this.”

“You promised.”

“I didn’t know it was going to be something like that.”

“But you did promise, though.”

“Fine,” she said as she brought the bottle to her lips. But before she drank, she said, “Let me, like, do something for you first.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what if I were to kiss you? I wouldn’t remember it, so it’s not like it would make things complicated, and you could have that memory all to yourself. Wouldn’t that be nice?” She was starting to slur her words. 

“No… I can’t let you do that.”

“Please, Jisoo, I--  _ hic _ \-- I want to do this for you.”

I wasn’t in any position to deny her a request like that, I decided, so I nodded and turned to face her. She pushed her lips against mine, and it was like there were a million doves in my chest. It’s not like she was very talented-- she was drunk, after all-- and the kiss itself was wet and sloppy. But, all the same, it was-- at the risk of sounding cliche-- magical. Her breath tasted like alcohol, which was appropriate, because mine always did when I fantasized about situations like this. 

“You’re a good kisser, Jisoo,” she said, pulling away. “It’s a shame I won’t remember that when I wake up.” I was speechless. 

She finished off the bottle, dropped it on the ground, and gripped my arm. She closed her eyes, and soon her breathing was steady and even-- Jennie was a sleepy drunk, it turned out. My thoughts, on the other hand, didn’t permit me the release of sleep. 


	2. Hangover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennie wakes up feeling irritable.

_ The plan was to drink until the pain over _

_ But what's worse, the pain or the hangover? _

-Kanye West, “Dark Fantasy”

 

I sat bolt upright in bed. Jennie, still attached to me, wore a smile on her face, and I could feel the steady rise and fall of her body. The alcohol was wearing off.

Sitting there in the dark, I felt like I was at the bottom of a well. “It won’t make things complicated,” she’d said. Yeah, sure. Things felt pretty goddamn complex. My mind swirled, amd memories and thoughts played in front of me like a movie. 

I remembered the first time I’d realized I was in love with her. It wasn’t love at first sight, but it was pretty close. When she first shook my hand, I think. When our skin made contact I felt a kind of wave of intense, physical desire that I had to bite my tongue to suppress. I ripped my hand away like I’d been touching a hot stove. 

Even then, I understood the implications of this discovery. It was the first time I’d ever felt anything like  _ lust.  _ And it was for a girl. A peer I was supposed to be competing with. It was clear to me that if I were to speak to anyone about these thoughts or to act on them in any way, my dream would be smashed against the rocks.

So I kept quiet. I did permit myself, however, to at least be friends with her. I knew it was dangerous, but I couldn’t help it. To deny myself the pleasure of being in her presence would be like denying myself food.

Speaking of which, seeing Jennie’s rebellious side brought to mind a similar incident. It was maybe a year or two before our debut, and we were in the thick of it. It’s ruthless, that life. Constant, crushing stress. Every facet of your life is closely monitored, and if you make a mistake, that’s it. You go home. And not to be too self-pitying, but I had it worse than most, I think. I struggled with my weight, for one thing, which was a big factor in determining your strength as a trainee, and of course there was the issue of having to watch Jennie every day. She was always doing these crazy over-sexualized dances. 

We had these evaluations, too. Every other week or so, we’d have to perform in front of a panel of ‘judges,’ as well as the other trainees. There was something terrifyingly clinical about it. When they’d critique you, it was like they were grading a math test. This is right, this is wrong, with no room for error. Nor was there any regard for the fact that we were all insecure teenage girls. 

So I remember it was Jennie’s turn at one of these, and she did a dance cover of an American pop song I’d never heard before that featured a lot of suggestive moves. It wasn’t the first time she’d used this strategy. The panels who graded you were usually all male, and sex appeal seemed to be pretty effective, and Jennie had the charisma and body-type to make it work.

But when she’d finished, the panel seemed less than impressed.

“How much did you weigh when you last checked,” one of them asked.

Jennie kind of slouched over. “Fifty-two kilograms,” she said, barely audible.

“That’s not gonna cut it, Jennie. We expect someone as tall as you to be under fifty.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s no point apologizing. You failed. Try harder next time. If there is a next time.”

She sulked away from the stage, and I didn’t see her until later that night when  asked me if I wanted to sneak out to go to a restaurant.

“Didn’t you just get yelled at for--” I said.

“Jisoo,” she told me, “ if you were about to say I shouldn’t go out to eat because I weigh too much, then maybe I overestimated the strength of our friendship.” Her face was red.

“No, I wasn’t. Let’s go. But you’re paying.”

She took us to a little hole-in-the-wall ramen place, being careful to not attract attention. When we sat down, she said, “I’m pissed, Jisoo.”

“I would be, too.”

“I mean, where do they get off… Well, actually I know where they get off: watching underage girls. But seriously. You know how long I’ve been with this company? A long fucking time. And they still treat me like a piece of meat.”

“Well, honestly, Jennie, I think it’s naive to expect anything different.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re a company, right? Their first and only goal is to make money. And you’re what they’re selling. So if you get in the way of that, of course they’re going to yell at you.”

“That’s inhumane.”

“Yeah,” I said. “But they don’t want you to be human. They want you to be  _ superhuman _ . An idol without flaws. And I think you’re pretty close to perfect already, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Oh, stop it,” she said, smiling. “Can you promise me something, Jisoo?”

“Depends.”

“Promise me that we won’t change. We’ll do whatever we can to debut together, but they won’t change us. Who we really are.” She took my hands in hers.

“I promise,” I said. But she didn’t know who I really was, and neither did I.

***

I was pulled from my reverie by Jennie stirring. The light outside was the pale blue of early morning-- I hadn’t gotten any sleep at all. She opened her eyes and brought a hand to her head.

“God, what happened last night?” she asked. “I remember you showing me your stash of booze, and then nothing after that. How much did I drink?”

“Less than you might expect, lightweight. Come on, get up. We have to practice this morning, remember?”

“I feel like shit.”

“You kind of look like shit.”

“Hey! Actually, do you mind if I borrow some of your practice clothes? I forgot to wash mine.”

“Go ahead.”

She took some from my drawer and began to change in front of me, peeling off the clothes she’d slept in. I took a deep breath. The reality of what had happened last night hit me in waves. Another secret I had to keep, another lie I had to keep telling. And the sight of Jennie’s nude body in front of me wasn’t helping me forget. As much as she was a fashion icon, she looked best wearing something casual, or-- if you asked me-- wearing nothing at all. 

In the car on the way to the studio, Lisa bounced and rambled. She was maybe the only true ‘morning person’ I’d ever met. 

“Lisa, can you shut up for once in your life,” Jennie said. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Lisa asked. “Were you out late drinking again?”

“Just be quiet, please. I’m tired.”

“That’s a good question, though,” said Chaeyoung, “What were you two up to last night? The door to your room was locked, Jisoo.”

“We were having hardcore Sapphic sex, if you must know,” I said.

“Sounds fun.”  

Jennie looked at me as if to say, “Really?” I shook my head.

***

“What’s gotten into you, Jennie?” asked Hae-min, our choreographer. “You had this down the last time, and now you’re tripping over yourself like you’re drunk or something. Are you drunk?”

“I’m sorry,” Jennie said. “I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”  
“Because you look awful. You look like someone stepped on you.”

“I get it.”

“Let’s try again.”

The music played, loud and overpowering. I watched myself in the mirror, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that the reflection of me was, in fact, someone else. It couldn’t think, this reflection. It didn’t have to deal with my constant dangerous thoughts. It was merely an image.

Jennie fell over

“What the fuck, Jennie,” Hae-min said. 

“Sorry. Sorry, you guys. I tripped.”

“This is really embarrassing,” Hae-min continued. “You’re supposed to be a professional, and you’re stumbling around like a newborn giraffe. Do we need to slow down for you? Is this too difficult? Because I thought, all things considered, this was pretty easy. But I apparently failed to consider that BLACKPINK had a  _ child  _ as one of their members.”

“Look, I apologized. I’ll try harder next time.”

“Try harder? This is not a problem that simple effort is going to solve, Jennie. This is like you’ve been replaced by some kind of doppelganger. A clone of Jennie that is maybe the worst dancer I’ve ever seen. And I used to be a dance teacher for kindergarteners.”

“Shut up, Hae-min,” Jennie said.

“Excuse me?”

“I said shut up.”

“Jennie, I don’t know if you’ve had a sudden attack of amnesia, but I’m your  _ superior _ . I won’t tolerate this kind of subordination. You’re going to be punished, I can guarantee.”

“I’m not a fucking child Hae-min, so quit treating me like one. And I’m also not some mindless automaton or animal that you can condition into being a perfect dancing machine. I’m a human fucking being.”

“Are you sure? Because all I hear right now is a bitch barking at me.”

Jennie’s mouth opened then closed. She ran out of the room, and I chased after her.

***

“It’s really not fair,” Jennie told me. We sat on a bench overlooking the Han River, and I could see a hundred billboards in the distance, casting their neon light over the water. After she’d stormed out of the dance studio, I lost track of her. But I had a good idea of where she’d go. This was the bench we would always sit at after a day of brutal training. It had an ad for a lawyer on it that we’d always laugh about: “You may be entitled to compensation,” it said. 

“I know, Jennie, but you have to relax. This kind of self-destruction isn’t helping anyone.”

“I can’t help it, Jisoo. I woke up this morning feeling  _ frustrated. _ What did we really do last night?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“What? Why not?”

“I made you promise to drink a lot so you’d forget. If I told you now, it would kind of invalidate that, wouldn’t it?”

“Why? What did we do that you couldn’t bear me remembering?”

“Well, the whole point is that I can’t tell you.”

“You’re weird, Jisoo.”

“I know.”

“Here’s another promise: from now on, I’m going to be me. The company’s lucky to have me, and they can make do with whatever Jennie I want to be.”

“Was that the real Jennie yelling at Hae-min?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Honestly, I’m not sure I’ll ever know the real me, whatever that means, if I have to put up with shit like that every day. You know what I mean?”

“Like you keep getting pounded into a shape that’s not your own?”

“Exactly.”

“Do you remember when we were trainees and you made me promise to never let anyone change me?”

“Vaguely.”

“I think we should keep that promise,” I said, and I put my head on her shoulder.


	3. Explicit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennie tells a half-truth on live TV.

“They’re making us wear school uniforms?” Jennie scoffed.

“I think they’re cute,” said Lisa.

“They’d be cute on high-schoolers,” continued Jennie. “I mean, aren’t we infantilized enough already? Now they’re going to make us act like fifteen-year-olds. And of course the skirt only goes down to like the middle of my thigh. Pedophiles, all of them.”

“You said you calmed down,” I said, glaring at her.

“I’m calm. Watch, I’ll be a professional out there.”

“Okay. But you’d better. Plus, I think you look sexy in a short skirt.”

Chaeyoung said, “Save that kind of talk for when we’re out there, Jisoo. Fanservice, remember?”

Jennie rolled her eyes, and I hit her arm. 

We were in the greenroom for some school-themed variety show. It’s always the same fluff, though, on these things. 

But I felt uncomfortable. I sensed that Jennie was still on edge from her encounter with our choreographer earlier in the day, and I was worried that something catastrophic was going to happen on live television. 

And to compound all that, she really did look incredible in that outfit. The skirt cut off right where her legs began to grow paler, giving just the slightest hint of what lay further up. And the top, while by no means revealing, was  _ tight _ , and it ran along the curves of her body like water surrounding a continent. 

The memory of her lips on mine played in my mind like an electric shock. My breath grew quicker, and I had to bite my lip to keep it under control. 

On the main studio floor, the man behind the camera gave as a countdown, and, just like that, the whole world could see us. Of course, I don’t really mean  _ us _ , but instead a version of Jisoo, Jennie, Chaeyoung, and Lisa more suited to being the pseudo-deities we needed to be. 

The panel of  “comedians” asked benign, softball questions, and we laughed when we were supposed to, managing to slip in some of our own prepared banter. Lisa stood closer to the rest of us than usual and wrapped her arms around us more easily. She smelled like makeup and hairspray, which made me gag. 

Basically, this wouldn’t have been a memorable event had it not been for Jennie’s contribution to ‘fanservice.’

The question was something like, “Do you have any fond memories of your trainee years?”

And Jennie flashed me a quick grin and said, “Well, I remember when I’d just met Jisoo. We sat in a hot tub together. Nude.” She paused to see the effect this statement had on the room of lecherous-looking men. They were eating it up. “We talked about our dreams and aspirations. It was really embarrassing, but we became friends after that. Roommates, too.”

The comedians-- all male-- burst into hysterics. They were practically slavering, and the harsh studio lights beating down made them look somehow grotesque, like poorly-drawn cartoon characters. I felt nauseous.

Why had Jennie lied? It hadn’t happened like that.

***

It didn’t happen when we’d first met, for starters: we’d been friends for a year. And it wasn’t quite so awkward as she made it out to be-- at least not for her.  

It was after a brutal round of cuts, meaning at least a hundred girls had just been sent home crying. Not that I knew any of them outside the casual way I knew everyone at the company. But it was still depressing in an abstract way. Like part of your soul had left with your former comrades.

Jennie took it especially hard. I think she’d been close with one of them. So, seeing this as an opportunity to maybe bolster our camaraderie, I told her, “Jennie, let’s go out somewhere. How about a sauna?” Of course, it was in the back of my mind that this would mean I could see her without clothes-- not to be too crude about it. She agreed.

I remember thinking how her body, the lines of it, were almost minimalistic as she let her clothes drop to the dark hardwood floor of the bathhouse. Like her silhouette had been drawn with an ultra-fine pencil. And when she turned to face me my heart stopped for a moment. It’s difficult to describe the feeling. Arousal, certainly, but there was also an element of envy. To put it mildly, she was more well-endowed than me, and she had a triangle of black pubic hair that formed a perfect border to her flat stomach.

Jennie said, “Jisoo, why are you blushing? It’s just us here.” It was true, it was late at night, and even though it was a public spa, it was empty. But obviously that’s not why I felt embarrassed. How could my body even be allowed to exist on the same plane of existence as hers?

But I gave in, in the end, because otherwise I risked betraying my true feelings, and that would spell disaster for more reasons than I could count. I tried to make my nude body as small as possible. 

Jennie giggled. “Why are you so shy?” she asked. “I thought we were friends.” I couldn’t respond.

We lowered ourselves into the steaming pool, and Jennie let out an exasperated sigh. All this, the heat, the sight of her, the sound of her, combined to make my head feel like it was floating away. 

“God, it’s awful, Jisoo,” said Jennie when she was acclimated. “You’d think we were training to be, like, elite soldiers, not singers. It’s so brutal.”

“Just think about what it’d be like if we succeed, though,” I said.

“ _ When _ we succeed.”

“Yeah,  _ when  _ we succeed, it’ll feel like this. Like floating in hot, hot water. And all our past will float away like how the tension in our muscles is floating away now.”

“That sounds nice.”

We sat in silence for a moment, then she said, “Do you ever get lonely, Jisoo?”

“Lonely how?”

“Well, we’re around people all the time. But sometimes I feel, like, hidden. Like there’s a kind of shadow over me that people can’t see through.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I feel like that sometimes.”

Then she turned and kissed my cheek. “You  _ are  _ my best friend, Jisoo. You know that, right?”

“You’re my best friend, t-too,” I said. I had to jump out of the pool-- the heat had grown unbearable.

***

“Is that true, Jisoo?” asked one of the older comedians. “Did you really bathe naked with Jennie?”

I forced myself to laugh. “How embarrassing,” I said. Jennie smiled at me again.

After the show, we returned to the dorm, and I told Jennie that I wanted to speak with her alone. 

“Why did you lie like that?” I asked when I’d gotten her in my room and closed the door. My voice was a bit louder than I’d intended.

“What did I lie about?”

“Oh, let’s see, I think it was about the, uh, skinny dipping together. That’s not how it happened, and you know that.”

“What? That was harmless.”

“I thought it was, like, a secret just between us. And then you used it to make yourself look good on TV.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell the  _ full  _ truth. Just a little white lie. Nothing too explicit is what Mr. Son said, remember?”

“We hadn’t just met each other.”

“I know.”

“We were old enough to know what we were doing.”

“What  _ were  _ we doing?” she asked. I looked away. 

“Nothing,” I said. “It’s not important.”

“No, really, Jisoo. What were we doing? Because now I’m starting to think we have different ideas about what happened.  _ I  _ thought it was, like, a bonding moment between girls. But something tells me you don’t see it that way.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, walking away from her.

“I mean, you wouldn’t be so mad about this if you thought the same way I did. Like, I get that it was an important moment in our friendship, but to me, you sound afraid.”

“Are you insinuating something?”

“I don’t know, Jisoo. You’ve been acting weird today. It’s like you can’t look me in the eyes, even when you were trying to help me... What really happened last night?”

“Okay, fine,” I said, turning to face her. My voice trembled. “You really want to know what was so  _ awful _ I made you forget? We kissed, is what happened.” Her eyes widened. “And I don’t know, I guess I was worried that, like, if you don’t remember these things the way I do, or if they’re not as special to you as they are to me, then it didn’t mean anything.”

“Did it mean anything in the first place? That doesn’t really sound that bad to me. Like, isn’t that what drunk girls are supposed to do?”

“But I wasn’t drunk.” 

“Wait, you mean you wanted to kiss me but you didn’t want me to remember it?”

“I didn’t want you to remember what led up to the kiss.”

“Which was?”

“ _ That _ I really can’t tell you,” I said. 

“Jisoo,” she said, stepping closer to me. “The only way that would make sense is if you, like, confessed your love to me. That’s the only reason I can think of that you wouldn’t want me to remember how we ended up kissing.”

I didn’t say anything.

She turned away from me. “What the  _ fuck. _ ”


	4. Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tag gets changed to 'Mature.'

_ Everything is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power. _

-Oscar Wilde

 

“I shouldn’t’ve said that,” I said.

“No, you really should not have,” said Jennie. “Fuck, Jisoo, why do you always have to make things so complicated?”

“Listen, we can just pretend this didn’t happen.”

“We really can’t.”

“I know,” I said. Jennie sighed.

“Sit down,” she said, gesturing to my bed. “We at least have to talk about this.”

I obeyed her. I felt stiff, like I was forcing my body to stay in one position, keeping my spine straight. 

“If there’s one thing you know about me, Jisoo, it’s that I don’t like to be controlled. And right now, you’re controlling me. This… I can’t be, like,  _ free, _ knowing this. You know that.”

“I know. I’m really sorry.”

“That’s bullshit, no you’re not. You’re selfish, Jisoo.” She was raising her voice, but it wasn’t getting louder, instead transforming into a kind of hoarse whisper. “If you really cared about me… I mean, you were just saying how good of friends we are. If that were true, then you wouldn’t have said that. You would’ve just let us be friends. Kept your feelings to yourself.”

“Jennie, I…”

“You what? No, actually I don’t want to hear it. This has been a really shitty day for me, and you know that, and you made it worse anyway.” She walked over to me and leaned down so that we were eye to eye, then she put her index finger on my thigh. “This is what you want?”

“No,” I said, pushing her hand away. “Let’s just talk.”

“I mean, goddamn, Jisoo. I could feel the heat coming out of you just then. You’re really in  _ love  _ with me. I can’t believe this.”

“It’s not like that. I mean, we’ve just always been so close, and you’re really pretty, and it’s not like I ever intended on, like,  _ acting _ on it. It’s just, like, a harmless crush. Something to get me through the day, you know?” I could feel sweat forming on my forehead. 

“Do you even hear what you’re saying? Did you ever stop to consider how all this would make  _ me  _ feel?”

“I’m really sorry. Really.”

She put her finger on my thigh again, and something about her expression made me afraid to stop her-- whatever she was doing. Then she traced it up along me: up my hip, my stomach, my left breast, my neck, stopping at my lips. “I’ve always been jealous of your lips,” she said, the anger coursing through her words like a current. “They’re the perfect shape.”

“What are you doing, Jennie?”

“I need control again. Just… let me do this. I need this.” Then she kissed me, overlapping her mouth with mine, and I couldn’t do anything to resist, even though I felt like I could scream and throw up at the same time. 

She moved her mouth down to the side of my neck, an inch below the lobe of my ear, and licked. I shuddered. “What are you, uh, what are you doing?” I asked, stopping a sigh from escaping me. 

“Shh, Jisoo. No one needs to know.”

“Lisa, Chaeyoung-- they’ll hear.”

“How? Do you plan on screaming?”

“I… I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself,” I said. I couldn’t think. The chemicals in my brain screamed at me.  _ Do it, Jisoo. This is all you’ve ever wanted. Let it happen. _ The scent of her was overpowering, flooding my senses-- fancy perfume with a kind of musk attached, something almost animal.

“Then I’ll cover your mouth.” I made a whimpering noise, and she grabbed my face to stop me.

She lifted my shirt over my head, then my bra, and she brought her tongue to my right nipple, encasing it in her mouth and circling it with her tongue. I groaned against the palm of her hand. She pushed me into my bed and straddled me, keeping her hand pressed to my mouth. Then she bent down and gripped my lower lip between her teeth, letting her dark mahogany hair fall across my face.

“This feels right,” she said, letting go of me. “Me on top of you like this.”

“Yes,” I said, panting. “How are you so good at this?” There was a fire between my legs and tingling ran along my inner thighs like electricity through a wire. 

“I think you’re biased.”

“Probably,” I laughed.

“Because I’ve never done this before.”

“You mean not with a girl?”

“Not with anyone.”

“Wow, really?”

“Is that so surprising?” she asked, raising a feline eyebrow.

“Uh, kind of. It’s not important. Please keep going.”

She pulled off her own shirt, and I couldn’t help but feel a brief pang of envy for her swelling breasts. Then her jeans. She wore sheer black underwear-- black like everything else she owned. 

“Take them off,” she ordered, and I did, sliding them down her pale legs. Her pubic hair was neat and tidy, and the scent of her was all around my head like a sweet, sticky cloud. She pressed me into her wetness, and I could make out a stifled gasp, which became further incentive.

I’d also never done this before. I didn’t know what I was doing, and I was, for a brief moment, paralyzed by insecurity. But then I felt Jennie’s hand at the back of head, and I began to do the best I could, moving my tongue at random, trying to find the spots I liked to touch when I used my hand.

It was like a kind of vortex, that blackness, and time passed around me without my knowledge. I could only focus on one thing: we fit together perfectly. 

The next thing I knew, Jennie was pulling me off her, and I looked up at her to see her red, sweating face. 

“You made me too sensitive,” she said, breathless. She lay still for a moment then moved to put her clothes back on.

“Oh, are we done?” I asked. 

“Yes, Jisoo. This was for my benefit, not yours. We’re even now.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Put your clothes back on.”

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Panic flashed through me, sharp and icy, and I rushed to find my shirt in the mess of bedding we’d made. Another knock. I jammed myself into the t-shirt.

“I’m coming,” I said, and Jennie let out a snort of laughter. 

It was Lisa on the other side. “What’s going on in here?” she asked, an impish smile across her face. 

“I was yelling at Jennie,” I said. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. The door was locked, and I have a dirty mind.”

“Gross, Lisa,” Jennie said from my bed. 

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing you’re making me think like that,” Lisa said. “If that’s what I’m picturing, then imagine what our more, uh, creative fans think goes on in this dorm. Mr. Son will be proud.”

“Leave us alone, Lisa,” Jennie said, and she threw a pillow at the doorway, causing Lisa to run away squealing. 

***

That night, after we’d all retired to our bedrooms, I heard another knock.

After the encounter with Lisa, the four of us had gone out to dinner, and I hadn’t been able to meet Jennie’s eyes. She bumped into me at one point, and I just about had a heart attack. This was bad. Nothing would go back to normal.

And now someone was coming to speak with me. Jennie, of course.

“Come in,” I sighed.

She closed the door behind her. “We have to talk.”

“I thought we already talked.”

“Listen, I’ll leave you alone. But I just want to let you know… It wasn’t for Mr. Son, what we did. It was for us. Or for me, at least.”

I didn’t say anything.

“Someone once told me, ‘Everything is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power.’ and I can’t stop thinking about that. Like, it’s  _ ours  _ what we did. No one else can have that power. Certainly not the company. Am I making sense?”

“It kind of felt like you just wanted to have power  _ over _ me,” I said, looking away from her. 

“Well, I did. In the moment. It was impulsive.”

“I’ll say.”

“Hey, you’re not one to talk,” she said.   


“I kept my feelings for you hidden for almost a decade. The moment you find out I have those feelings, you basically hate-fuck me.”

“I mean, you’re right, of course. Just… I want you to know that I made my  _ own  _ decision. And you made yours. I’ll leave you alone.” I let her walk away.

I turned the lights out in my room and felt the darkness press down on me like I was under a thousand feet of water.


	5. Ownership

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisoo receives a strange request.

The next day, we had a kind of meet-and-greet. They put the four of us at a long table, and fans queued up to speak with us. Some gave out gifts.

Jennie was decked out: An almost casual-looking long-sleeve shirt which I knew cost over a thousand dollar and a short pleated skirt-- also in the quadruple-digits. She giggled and bared her teeth to the uncountable people coming up to her. It looked like something out of Lord of the Rings. An elf deigning to speak with hobbits. 

I couldn’t take my eyes off her. My hands performed the action of signing my name, and I went on autopilot with regards to saying encouraging/grateful things, but my mind was hers. A tall manager paced behind us-- I hadn’t learned his name yet.

“Would you kill me, Jisoo?” The guy in front of me asked. That focused me. Maybe eighteen and wearing a black safety-mask, holding one of our albums, pale. 

“Excuse me?” I said.

“Well, okay, here goes. I would like for you to kill me. When I was in the military, I watched you like a religion. Not BLACKPINK. Just you, Jisoo”-- I looked behind me at the manager-- “And it was so great. I wouldn’t’ve survived without you, and basically it’s fair to say at this point that you own me. Like, in a very literal way. And things haven’t been great in my life recently, you being the only, like, beacon. That would be so perfect, right? That’s easily the best way to go, in my book. No one would have to know.”

“Um, you’re sweet,” I said, glancing at the other members. They couldn’t hear us, it seemed like. 

“I mean, this isn’t, like, some prank. It’s assisted suicide. It’s not murder, if that’s what you’re worried about. I can pay you, too. It’s not like I’ll need the money. Ha ha.”

“I’m not really sure I can do that. I can sign that, if you’d like.”

“Sure you can. I don’t know when you’re free-- if ever-- but here’s my phone number if you ever are. Something easy. Like, I could set the noose up and everything, and you could just kick the chair. Easy. No one would ever find out.”

I took the scrap of paper he was offering and looked behind me again. The manager had caught on, and he was standing behind me. The teenager in front of me smiled, showing lopsided yellow teeth. Then he was being pulled away, two large men in uniforms gripping under his armpits, but he (the teenager) continued to smile. I shuddered.

***

There was a kind of backstage we all went to afterwards to decompress. Chaeyoung and Lisa whispered in each other’s ear and giggled. Jennie looked at her pink acrylic nails with almost palpable disinterest. It was like she’d become a whole different person, or maybe this was who she’d been all along, and I’d been blinded by lust or something.

“Did you see what happened?” I asked her.

“No?” she said, still looking at her nails. 

“A guy asked me to help him commit suicide.”

“What did you say?”

“Uh, nothing. I just kind of let the manager deal with it.”

“Huh. I wonder what that’d be like.”

“It was like he was giving his soul to us, or at least to me. Like he’d spent everything he could except his soul. Terrifying.”

“Listen, Jisoo, if you’re still mad about what happened yesterday…”

“No, no. Jesus, I was just telling you about a guy who wanted me to kill him.”

“I can read the subtext, and I also want to talk about it. Let’s go somewhere else. There’s a nice bathroom back there, I think.”

“I don’t--” but she was already walking away. There was no choice but to follow her, watch her swishing backside. 

The bathroom was private and secluded-- one toilet and a sink. It might’ve looked strange if someone saw two people slipping into it, but I don’t think anyone did. 

“It’s all I’ve been able to think about, Jisoo.”

“Me too.”

“I don’t really know what came over me. It’s like I was channeling all those people from the company who yell at me, then doing the same thing to you.”

“I liked it.”

“What?”

I felt heat rush to my face. “It… When I confessed to you the first time, it wasn’t what I wanted, I realize now. I didn’t want you to reciprocate. But then, when you pushed me down like that… That’s all I ever wanted. For you to  _ own  _ me.”

“That doesn’t sound, like, healthy, Jisoo.”

“Everyone has their vices. Hell, you’re the vice of everyone who came up to speak to you today.” 

I hugged her and put my head on her shoulder. Then I reached down and unzipped my jeans and grabbed Jennie’s hand and put it against my crotch, feeling my heat reflected off her.  

“Jisoo, I don’t know if--”

“Please, Jennie. It’s harmless.”

“It’s really not.”

I squeezed her tighter and wrapped my arm around the back of her head, feeling the silky texture of her hair. Even just her proximity to me was enough to create a veritable flood, and I’m sure she could feel me grow damp under her hand.

“I’m not even sure I like-- you know-- I’m not sure I like  _ girls.  _ It wasn’t really about the sex yesterday.”

“Then just do it as a favor. I can repay you later. Just a simple transaction.” I tried to get closer. 

“Repay me how?”

“Whatever--” I let out a groan. “Whatever you want.”

That was enough for her, apparently. She walked forward, me still wrapped around her, until my back hit the wall. Then she shoved her hand under my teal underwear and put her long middle finger inside me-- I didn’t even feel the fake nail. I put my face into her neck, trying to suck up her scent. 

She moved in and out of me, and I had to bite down on her shoulder to keep from screaming. Her breath was hot and fast. 

“This is what you want?” she asked. I couldn’t speak, so I simply nodded. 

She pushed her free hand up my shirt and squeezed my left breast, so hard it was painful, but it was undeniably arousing. I pictured her in my mind-- my eyes were closed-- doing all this to me with a blank, clinical expression, which is when I came, convulsing and twitching around her like an epileptic.  

Almost immediately, Jennie rushed to the sink and washed her hands. I pulled my pants up and leaned back against the wall.

“Jisoo, I-- listen-- I will always be your friend,” said Jennie, still rubbing her hands under the water. “But isn’t this a little, like, pathetic? I mean, I feel kind of disgusting right now.”

“Because of me?” I asked.

“Well, it’s just... I don’t want to take advantage of you. I mean, not more than I already have. Can’t we just go back to normal?”

“What’s normal, Jennie? When I drink myself into oblivion to forget I need  _ that _ ? Is that normal?”

“That’s your problem, not mine.”

“No, I don’t think we can go back to ‘normal.’”

“Jisoo, do you hear yourself? We grew up together. We became women together, and you want to throw all that away because you want me to be, instead of your friend, a means to an end, so to speak. I’m not some kind of prostitute, you know. Our company could definitely find a prostitute for you if that’s what you want.” 

I felt tears behind my eyes. “I’m confused, Jennie.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“I’ve been confused for these past five years or however long it’s been. Since I met you. I’ve always felt like a kind of prostitute, I think. Like I’ve been selling me, selling Jisoo. And maybe it’s been that way so long that I can’t think of you in any other light. I’m so confused. And maybe this is all really melodramatic and you can’t understand what I’m saying, which is the worst part. I don’t know what else to do, though.” Then I couldn’t push the lump in my throat down any more, and so I coughed and began to sob. 

“Figure it out,” Jennie said, and she walked out of the fluorescent-lit bathroom.  


	6. Melodrama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Speaking with The CEO angers Jisoo.

The receptionist spoke on the phone ceaselessly, chattering into it like a woodpecker hitting its beak against bark. Why was it that whenever I was anxious the world around me got that much  _ louder _ ?

“...Totally, right?...” she said.  “Oh my god, I could not believe that… Seriously… But that’s when In-hye said she wasn’t really into it… That’s what I’m saying!” She blathered on and on. 

She turned her back to me and said, “Yeah… No you’re not going to believe who’s here right now… No, guess again.” 

I pressed my right palm into my left. 

“...Yes, I mean  _ the  _ Kim Jisoo… I’m sure she can hear me… No, I’m not going to get her autograph for you… No way!”

I stood up and walked toward the receptionist’s desk. She took the phone away from her ear and gave me a plastic smile. 

“Hang up,” I told her. Her smile faded.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Ms. Kim,” she said. I grabbed the phone from her hand and threw it against the wall behind her. She made a pathetic sort of whimpering sound. 

The CEO leaned out of his door and beckoned me into his office with a twist of his old, gnarled-looking fingers. Jennie was already inside, of course. I knew it’d been her as soon as I’d gotten a call from the office. Obviously that’s what she’d do as soon as the going got tough: call the very company she claimed to hate. 

She stood by The CEO’s side, and it was as if she’d become a decade younger. Her lips looked poutier than normal. 

“I heard a crash outside,” The CEO said. 

“Oh, that was… nothing,” I said. “Sir.”

“Jisoo, listen, believe me when I say this is not the first time I’ve seen something like this.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Of course not. I was in your exact same position not long ago,” he said, smiling at me like someone trying to cheer up their child. “I mean, you live together, work together. Of course these things are going to come up.”

I glared at Jennie. “I’m not quite sure what you mean,” I said. 

“Well, Jennie tells me you two have been fighting.” He put his arm around her-- a little too low. “And-- at least in my experience-- that kind of behavior isn’t conducive to being a good idol.”

“Fighting?” I said. Jennie gave me a stern look.

“Listen, Jisoo,” continued The CEO, “I’m going to level with you. Call it whatever you want, but I’m not going to tolerate it. Our company-- my company-- to be brutally honest, is struggling at the moment. Scandal after scandal… Don’t even get me started. I mean after all the good I’ve done these people. Hell, the good I’ve done for this whole goddamn  _ country.  _ Anyway, it wouldn’t be unfair to say that we’re in dire straits at the moment. And I don’t want to put any pressure on you, but all this” -- he gestured around at his ornate office-- “is on BLACKPINK’s back right now. And it would go a long way, a long, long way, if you two could at least act like everything is put together. Post a picture of you two hugging or something.”

“Of course, sir,” I said, biting the edge of my tongue. 

He poured a glass of something amber-colored from a glass tumbler and said, “Oh, Jennie, uh, what’s this I hear about you yelling at Hae-min?”

Jennie grimaced. “I just lost my temper. Sorry, sir.”

“I’m inclined to forgive you this once, but if it happens again… Well, you remember what happened last time you were, uh, disobedient.”

Her eyes widened. “Absolutely, sir.”

“Leave, both of you. And get along, please. For me.”

Jennie and I bowed and left the office, not daring to get within three feet of each other. 

***

Back at the dorm, Jennie pulled me into her room by the hem of my shirt. It (her room) looked like it belonged to someone much younger and much edgier. The walls had been painted black-- likely not with permission-- and her bed was just a naked mattress. 

“What the fuck was that about?” I said, trying to keep my voice from breaking. “You called  _ him? _ ” 

“I thought if I got him involved, you’d at least start to take all this seriously. Plus, he likes me.”

“Gross.”

“Because, Jisoo, this has to end. And it will end, one way or another. I just want it to be, like, amicable.”

“Amicable?” I said. “I’m feeling pretty fucking far from amicable right now.”

“Quit being melodramatic. This is a job, we need to be professional. And there’s no, like, HR we can go to, so we’ll have to work it out on our own.”

“I thought you hated how corporate your life was.”

“I do. And I’m pretty pissed at you for making me resort to this. Remember when you said you’d do literally anything to repay me? Well, that’s what I want as payment: for everything to go back to normal. Because I’m serious, Jisoo, this needs to end. This is, like, my livelihood you’re fucking with here.”

“Jennie, I…” I started, clenching my fists together to keep from yelling or crying or killing her or all three. “I can’t fucking believe you. We’re friends,  _ best  _ friends, even. And lovers.”

“Hold on--”

“But it was all some kind of facade. Because, despite all your protests, you really are just a fucking brainwashed, mindless automaton. A living doll who prefers the artificial praise of variety show hosts and dance teachers and that disgusting fucking  _ creature  _ we have to call ‘sir.’ You prefer all that to me and my stupid but genuine love. And, Jesus, I’m realizing now that I  _ do  _ love you still, even knowing all that. And I don’t think I can stop. It’s like all those fancy clothes you love so much: You know they’re made in sweatshops with suicide nets by innocent little children who don’t deserve a millionth of the misery they’re surrounded by, but you can’t help but crave the feeling of that fine silk around your body and how good it’ll make you look.”

“Calm down, Jisoo. You’re being unfair.”

“You want to know what I think happened the other night when you got drunk and we kissed? I think it, like, erased your programming. The alcohol did. And that was the real you that night. Empathetic and loving and capital-R Real. But that’s not who you are most of the time. No, most of the time you’re Jennie with a ‘™’ who is morally disgusting and glib and plastic and in general just a total fucking  _ sociopath,  _ but who still has that  _ je ne sais quoi  _ that, despite my best intentions, I can’t help but want to be  _ fucked  _ by.”

“Fuck you,” Jennie said between pursed lips. A tear made its way down her cheek. 

And I was about to hit her or something, but I forced myself to turn around and stormed out of her room in, yes, a highly melodramatic way. 

***

I was heading down the corridor to my room, intending to sit in the darkness and listen to sad music for the next week, when the front door opened and I heard Chaeyoung’s high, girlish voice say, “Jisoo, what’s wrong?”

How could she tell with my back turned to her? “Nothing,” I muttered, but she wouldn’t let me off that easy. 

“Come here,” she ordered. So I did-- it was futile to resist her when she was acting maternal.

We sat on the couch in the front room, and she brushed some of the hair out of my face.

“Your eyes are bloodshot, Jisoo,” she said, frowning. “Have you been crying?”

“It’s…” I sighed. “It’s Jennie. We’ve been fighting.”

“What! That’s kind of shocking.”

“How do you think I feel?”

“It’s just, I’ve always been, like, jealous of you two’s closeness. I can’t imagine what you’re fighting about.”

“It’s sort of hard to explain.”

“Come on, Jisoo,” she said, putting her hand on my shoulder. “You can tell me.”

I was thinking of how to bend the truth when I heard a scream from Jennie’s room. Part of me wanted to ignore it, but I jumped up and raced toward it anyway, Chaeyoung following closely behind.

I pushed her door open and saw the mirror at her desk had been smashed, the shards of it littering the floor. And there was Jennie on her bed with her face in her hands. She looked up at me, and I saw the little sliver of glass in her hand and the blood on her face. She’d cut a slash from just below the left side of her chin, through her cheek, and across the bridge of her nose, up to the rightmost part of her forehead. And there was a lot of blood.

“Call an ambulance,” I yelled at Chaeyoung. She dashed out of the room.

I went to Jennie’s side and put my arms around her. I kissed her cheek, tasting the stinging metal of her blood.

“Now,” she said between sobs, “no one can love me but you.”

“Who’s being melodramatic now?” I said in her ear. 

***

The next morning, at the hospital, I read the headline of the newspaper someone had brought in, and I felt hollow. “YG RESIGNS,” it read. He was probably going to do that anyway, but had chosen to do so right after he heard the news about Jennie to distract people. Maybe he really did like her. 

I glanced at Jennie, asleep and with bright white bandages across her face. A nurse had told me, after the immediate crisis had been dealt with, that there was definitely going to be a scar. Probably a big one. 

They’d given her some Valium or something after she’d been patched up because she was still in hysterics. Asking me over and over again if I still loved her. I’d said, “Of course,” again and again, but it didn’t seem to assuage her doubt. 

I didn’t sleep, obviously. I’d been left with my own doubts. Was all this my fault? What was going to happen now? But in a way it didn’t matter because I was certain of one thing: I did love her, and not just to appease anyone else. The taste of her blood lingered on my tongue, and its stark reality assured me that the girl lying injured in front of me was, in fact, a human being, and nothing, not fame or designer clothes or even the enormous beast of capitalism itself, could take that away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the last chapter. By the way, I wrote the first scene before YG resigned and the rest of it afterwards.


End file.
